


Teacher's pet

by spacegirl11



Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coming of Age, I'll tag as the chapters go, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Teacher-Student Relationship, everyone is 20
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28352223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegirl11/pseuds/spacegirl11
Summary: He frantically goes through his conversations, making sure he didn’t send the picture to his mom, that would be embarrassing, he encounters something worse, he just sent the picture of his dick to his art history professor, Slash drops the phone, sobering quickly, a cold sweat spreading through his body.(I'm no longer writing this at the moment)
Relationships: Axl Rose/Izzy Stradlin, Duff McKagan/Slash
Comments: 20
Kudos: 32





	1. don't care 'bout grades just call me your baby

**Author's Note:**

> My belated Christmas gift, better late than ever. I had this idea floating around, and since I finished all my Ficmas stories, I decided to sit down and write this, feeling pretty inspired. Sometimes I miss college and getting drunk on a Monday... no I don't miss it. I think Velvet Revolver era and older Duff don't get enough love, everyone is 20 and older, no worries, I'm weak for soft boys in makeup, some of the looks are based on Euphoria. The title is from Teacher's Pet by Melanie Martinez, I listen to other things besides rock haha, bear with me as I know nothing about the educative system in the U.S, hope you enjoy it and I'll see you soon 💜
> 
> This is the picture they plastered all over Slash's room: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DB8saNRVwAAPJp4.jpg

Duff takes the heavy black-framed glasses off, staring at the new message on the home screen; he squints and runs a hand through his shaggy blond hair. The text simply said, _“u got me so horny, baby”_ with a photo attached. The number, it’s not in his contacts, and even though he’s 40 years old and a grown adult, he’s fucking scared to open it.

The blond blatantly ignores the fact of how horrible this person types, autocorrect exist, people are just lazy these days; it probably was the guy he met at the bar and made the drunken mistake of giving him his number. He finally opens the text and finds a dick, a nice and very erect cock nestled between coarse, curly black hair. Unsolicited dick pics qualify as sexual harassment and are gross; he’s seen his fair share of them, but this particular cock it’s not sore in his eyes, quite the opposite; it’s nice and long and just mouthwatering.

He considered texting back and flirt a little; the papers he’s grading can wait. He pours himself another glass of wine and takes a sip, typing until he glances at the profile picture; it’s a photo of a curly-haired boy with bleached pieces of hair framing his face and dyed purple, faux freckles along his cheeks and glitter around his eyes.

Duff chokes on his wine and coughs violently; he covers his mouth, so he doesn’t stain his student’s papers. The blond gets up immediately and goes to the kitchen to grab a napkin; that’s Saul Hudson, his best student in Art History class, and he just sent him a dick pic; Duff knew from the beginning it was a mistake to give his class his personal number.

He deletes the conversation and blocks the phone, leaving it aside. He doesn’t delete the photo, though. His hand adjusts the front of his loose flannel pajamas until it finally sneaks under his pants and wraps around his hard, leaking cock…

**. . .**

Slash hits the send button with his thumb and throws his phone on the couch; the screen is already cracked, and he needs a new phone case; he hides his burning cheeks between his hands as Axl burst out laughing from his place on Izzy’s lap. The brunet has a protective hand over the small of his back, and with the other, he holds the beer he’s nursing.

The redhead recently dyed his hair pastel pink, the red roots peeking through; the little devil looks too cute in his oversized hoodie. He’s going to be the most menacing lawyer.

Steven is in his room, watching Phineas and Ferb, way too stoned to join them in their nightly games. The dorm smells like weed and sweat, the music from the speaker is loud, LED lights gleaming softly, they’re just fooling around, and after the curly brunet lost a bet, he had to send a picture of his dick to Nikki, one of their friends that live six doors down.

They’re waiting for the older boy to come screaming at their door, wanting to kill them, but the hallway remains silent. Axl huffs and grabs the forgotten beer bottle from Izzy’s hands; Slash is acting like a scaredy-cat; he doesn’t want to look at his phone.

Nikki probably was getting dicked down by Tommy. It was just an act of petty revenge after the scandalous photo his friend took of Tommy’s balls in Slash’s face during a party.

Axl is the one who grabs his phone and puts the password; he searches among the conversations and laughs loudly, throwing his head back. He hands the phone to Izzy, and the brunet shakes his head but laughs either way; it was a rare sight to see the brunet laugh until tears came down his cheeks.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy, Slasher” The brunet’s eyes widened, and he snatched his phone from the ginger’s hands. Izzy painted his nails electric blue earlier that day. Well, the brunet paints everyone’s nails given the chance.

He frantically goes through his conversations, making sure he didn’t send the picture to his mom. That would embarrass him. He encounters something worse; he sent the photo of his dick to his art history professor, Slash drops the phone, sobering quickly, a cold sweat spreading through his body.

Slash runs a hand through his ringlets. The first class he has tomorrow is with him, Mr. McKagan, his cheeks burn with shame. He would’ve preferred if he accidentally sent the picture to his mom; it would be easier to explain it. After that, the night became sour; Axl and Izzy returned to their dorm next door.

The brunet has no other choice but go to sleep and hope tomorrow he doesn’t get expelled for sexual harassment; he can’t afford to lose his scholarship. He can stop attending his class and wait; but he won’t do it, because Slash has a massive crush on his professor. It’s embarrassing to think about it.

He thought things like that only happened in shitty movies and T. V series. The stupid story of an attractive woman falling in love with her professor; since Slash started college, he didn’t have a handsome professor, just older men who can easily be his grandfather. He gave up.

But then he met his Art History professor, Michael McKagan, and Slash knew the moment he laid eyes on the older man that he was lost. He always dressed sharply, with his blond hair in a messy bun or a ponytail and those chocolate brown eyes. He was a goddamn dream, and Slash would swoon.

His heart beat faster every time he pronounced his name and praised his work, god he has the hots for his teacher, like a high school girl. Slash turns the lights to his bedroom. Forgetting that for his birthday, Stevie, Axl, and Izzy covered his room with pictures of Lightning McQueen. The joke went as far as giving him a body pillow with an anime character.

The brunet collapses on top of his messy bed; he makes the clothes aside and cuddles the body pillow. His thoughts went astray, and he thinks of Mr. McKagan, imagine the steady weight of his body beside him. He whimpers and hides his face in the soft material of the pillow, feeling his cock fill against his tight jeans.

**. . .**

When his alarm went off, Slash whined. He’s very convinced about not going to his lecture, he felt nauseated. Stevie came to see him and make sure he was alright; the brunet’s on autopilot the entire morning.

He feeds his snakes and finds the blond eating in front of the television, eating from a bowl of sugary cereal and wearing an oversized Rick and Morty shirt. Slash just grabs a red bull, his stomach is churning, and he doesn’t want to puke during his lecture.

He passes by Axl and Izzy’s dorm, their names in a sign in the door on bold letters and red glitter glue. Judging by the noise coming from the thin walls separating them, they’re still sleeping. Before he enters the classroom, he puts the hood on; he doesn’t want to be perceived. The blond is already on the chalkboard writing today’s lesson, he’s five minutes late, and everyone turns to look at him.

The blond turns slowly, his black-framed glasses sliding just a smidge on his nose. The weather is hot in Los Angeles, and he already shed the coat, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows, exposing his tattoos decorating his tanned skin, his muscles bulging over the fabric, hair in a high ponytail. _Fuck_.

“Come on in, Saul, you just arrived on time” Duff does a gesture towards the empty seats through the room, smiling softly, accentuating the faint wrinkles on his face, but he looked so _hot._

Slash took a seat and rested his head on the heavy history book. He couldn’t concentrate on what was coming from Mr. McKagan's mouth. The younger man was staring at his ass in those slacks; he loved the way his eyes sparkled with every word that left his attractive lips.

“…Don’t forget to have them ready for class next week and read the next three chapters.”

The brunet was jolted to reality as much as he loved to ogle and stare at the professor speak passionately about art; he was in deep shit; he tried to get out of the classroom first, pushing everyone, the door’s just right there, all he needed to do was open it.

“Saul, can we talk?” _damn him and his melodious voice_ , Slash bite his bottom plump lip and threw his head, the hoodie sliding off his head, exposing his jet-black curls, but also he was so fucked.

Everyone gave him a quizzical look. He’s the best in his class and barely gets into trouble, preferring to get stoned in his dorm, crash on frat parties, and stealing all the alcohol he could, with the aid of Steven, of course. The classroom emptied, and Slash could hear his heart pump anxiously and the blood rushing behind his ears.

“Was that supposed to be a joke?” spoke the blond, putting his books on the backpack he always carried around, the brunet shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Duff leaned against the desk, crossing his arms chest, his muscles just _right there_ , tempting him; he looked sternly into the brunet’s face. He was pissed off, but for all the right reasons, because Saul’s too fucking pretty for his own good; and has a decent cock. It took all the blond’s strength to not bend the boy over the desk.

Slash nodded, and he genuinely looked apologetic. _Was he pouting?,_ those lips were too good to be real; The blond rubbed the bridge of his nose. Sighing, his eyes made contact with the brunet’s gentle dark orbs.

“Just make sure it won’t happen again, at least not on accident.” Duff put his hand on his shoulder, patted him. Before twirling on one of his curls and winking at him.

The blond left the room, leaving Slash with his mouth open, replaying what just happened in his mind, Mr. McKagan’s words echoing inside his head. _Was he flirting with him?_

_His hot teacher was flirting with him._


	2. I can feel your blood pressure rise, fuck this tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Saul…” Duff should reject him, report him and let the head of the university handle it, but the boy is a great student and he’s talented, that drawing of him proved that he deserved to be there. “I’m your professor, Saul we can’t do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually experienced something similar last year, I send a text to my old algebra teacher back in high school while I was drunk, it was just gibberish but he didn't know it was me, I died from embarrassment. Some of the conversations are inspired by the ones I had with my best friend at three a.m when she's still doing homework and I have another insomnia episode.  
> Hope you enjoy it! 💜  
> (Also, I'm looking for a beta, if anyone's interested, please lemme know, see you later, pardner's)

Izzy jokingly starts scribbling down _“Slash thinks you’re hot”_ on every assignment he does for Mr. McKagan’s class after the dick pic incident; Slash laughs with them. Axl takes every single opportunity to tease him. Now, every time they passed the older man in the hallways, the redhead would nudge him on the ribs, wiggle his eyebrows, and make kissy noises.

But it’s just that, little jokes, Slash doesn’t stand a chance to ever get frisky with his professor; he’s just a 20-year-old student, after the semester is done, he won’t see the hot teacher anymore. When Slash met Izzy and his scrawny gremlin he calls a boyfriend, he learned to never trust in the bastards.

At least not in helping him finish his homework. The brunet has a lot of deadlines to deliver, he’s smart, but sometimes he can be damn lazy; Izzy offered his help to finish an essay on medieval art, and Slash trusted him because the bastard is studying literature.

So, he does the most logical thing and hands the laptop to his friend; Izzy explains how to structure his words, and Slash is getting the same vibes as doing math homework with his dad. The curly-brunet cringes but tries to listen to his friend, he’s enunciating his words slowly, and Slash thinks that is a dick move.

When they finish, Izzy typed at the end: _“Slash wants to suck your dick”_ they joke for a while, and Slash forgets to delete that, prints the damn essay, and tucks it safely inside his binder; ready for tomorrow’s class.

Slash goes to sleep until two am; he passes by Stevie’s room, he’s still awake, sitting in the middle of his room. The ceiling fan is on, and stripes of toilet paper are dancing around him, the Dark Soul’s soundtrack blaring from his phone. The brunet is done questioning most of his childhood friend's decisions. He sets his alarms because it takes a lot to get him to wake up.

**. . .**

“Saul, can I see you after class?” Duff places a hand over his shoulder, squeezing it lightly, Slash swallows hard, his heart hammering, he nods and offers the older man a gentle smile, trying to cover how excited he got.

At the end, Slash waits for the other to leave, finally approaching his desk, today Mr. McKagan’s wearing those damn grey slacks that cling to him in all the right places, he loosened the gold tie around his neck, the top buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned and the brunet might faint, his blond hair is in a messy bun, stray pieces of gold hair peeking through.

Mr. McKagan remains silent, the heavy black-framed eyeglasses rest heavily on the bridge of his nose, he hands Slash his homework from last week, there’s a red circle highlighting the phrase “ _Slash wants to suck your dick”._ Slash pales and toys with the sleeves of his hoodie, in how many ways can he embarrassed himself in front of his professor?

“Motherfucker…” curses the brunet softly and the blond raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms, looking sternly at the younger boy.

“Language, young man, look, Saul, I don’t know what kind of game you and your friends are playing, but it needs to stop” Duff doesn’t want to admit about all those nights he jerked off to the picture of his student’s cock he still keeps hidden in his phone.

It doesn’t help that today, Saul is wearing his hair in a low ponytail, keeping his wild curls away from his attractive, boyish face, and glittery eyeshadow, his plump lips are glossy, and Duff can’t take it, he clears his throat.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, it’s just a childish game between us, I totally forgot about it” Slash bites his bottom lip, a pleading look on his face.

Mr. McKagan sends him on his way and Slash wants to choke the brunet next time he sees him, especially when the fucker is just sitting in the little coffee shop so nonchalant, although it’s partially his fault for trusting in the bastard.

**. . .**

Next time, Duff found a sketch on his desk, it was a portrait of himself made with charcoal, on the corner, it’s signed and a scribbled apology with a sad face, the blond doesn’t even want to touch it with his bare hands, in case he’s going to ruin it; it’s so beautiful, Duff’s sure that Saul spent all his classes staring at every wrinkle on his face instead of listening to the lecture, to get an accurate look, he feels flattered and a slight blush creeps through his cheeks.

He frames it and puts it in the desk back at home, he pretends it doesn’t make him feel giddy.

**. . .**

Friday night, Slash gives the finishing touches for his makeup, he glues the stars in the corners of his eyes, they match with the silver hoop he placed on his ears, Axl bursts through the door of his room, his brows knitted together and jaw tight.

“Did you take my crop top, ass?” Axl opens the door to his closet and starts rummaging through the clothes until he finds what he’s looking for, it’s a blue mesh crop top with chubby angels, he rolls his eyes and sheds the oversized Rolling Stone’s t-shirt he was wearing.

“You have a very feminine aura” Slash stares at him, Axl is not wearing heavy makeup, but he drew clouds around his eyes with white eyeliner, his soft hair is in a high ponytail.

“I don’t have a feminine aura, Hudson, I’m very manly.” Axl knitted his brows together, pouting “Babe! Am I manly”

Although Izzy was in the living room slumped on the couch scrolling through Instagram, Slash can almost see him roll his eyes, the brunet thought for a moment about the type of conversations he had with his boyfriend every morning before they left for class.

_“Izzy, you think I look fat with this t-shirt?”_

_“Izzy, how does my hair look?”_

“Isbell!, Am I manly yes or no?” Axl stood in front of the brunet with his arms crossed and his pink bangs falling on his face.

“Of course, baby, the manliest man in this room” Izzy was lying but everything to keep the smaller boy content, he’s been doing that for a while.

Slash rolls his eyes, and goes back to fixing his makeup, it’s Friday, and all he wants to do is get drunk and forget everything; they’re going to the bar outside campus where no one asks for their ID’s and the curly brunet is sure that there’s a glory hole at the last bathroom stall and he has no proof and no doubts that Nikki and Tommy had a hand in that.

**. . .**

“Get over it, you’re the only one who wants to fuck the horse from Spirit, Stevie” Izzy whines, burying his head in his hands, sighing loudly.

“Y’all have to admit he’s a good lookin’ horse; he has big dick energy. Hey! Maybe we can put obstacles through campus and run around on all fours; we can Livestream it and let people bet on us” Steven’s blue eyes gleamed under the low lights from the bar. He clapped and took a sip of his beer.

“We’ve already established that Goofy is the only one who has a big schlong,” Izzy says, as a matter of fact, shrugging.

“You already exposed yourself, Adler, you’re a horse girl” the redhead gazes at the blond, Slash chuckles, choking on his drink, it’s always amusing to hear his friends bicker when they’re tipsy.

“You’re the one to talk, Rose, you once admitted you’ll bottom for Criss Angel” Steven pouts and Izzy glares at the redhead, but the ginger flips Steven off and grabs Izzy’s face, kissing the brunet, whispering sweet nothing against his lips.

Slash slams the shot glass on the table; Steven cheers loudly. That drink is down the hatch; Izzy hands him another beer; they’ve already started drinking even before they left the dorm, so he had a little too much to drink.

The brunet stands on wobbly legs to get another shot of whisky when he sees a familiar face sitting in front of the bar, it’s Mr. McKagan. He’s sitting alone with a bottle of beer; Slash thinks his drunk-addled brain is playing tricks on him. He rubs his eyes and blinks a few times, but his professor is still there, blond hair disheveled and his suit less sharp as before.

The curly brunet might be way too drunk, but he approached the older man. His stomach does a flip, and he knows it’s not because of the alcohol. He sits beside his professor, and the man looks up.

“Saul” greets the older man with a curt nod of his head.

“Fancy meeting you here, Mr. McKagan” Slash licks his lips. The blond doesn’t know how he can make his name sound so obscene, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Aren't you like 20? You shouldn’t be here,” Duff raises an eyebrow, Slash looks apologetic. When he’s drunk, the brunet believes everything is his fault “Ok, Saul, just one beer, and it’s Michael or Duff, Mr. McKagan sound too formal for the setting we’re in.”

Slash smiles, excited that his professor didn’t send him away, and kinda wants to have a conversation with him. They talk about assignments, topics for the next class, the brunet stutters with nervousness and the combination of the alcohol, a smile plastered on his lips; he is captivated by Duff’s beauty, he could get lost inside his eyes.

“Do you send pics of your nether regions to your friends?” Duff teases, swirling the beer in the bottle. Slash’s cheeks burn with embarrassment, and his hair falls in front of his face, wild, unruly curls covering his blush.

“I usually do it until the third or the fourth date; it’s the kind of situation where I show you mine and you show me yours” Duff beams and laughs, throwing his head back and grabbing his chest; Slash is sure he never heard something more beautiful.

After that, Duff feels more confident and cracks a few jokes, his cheeks flushed with the beer. The brunet steadily leans closer to his professor until he can smell his strong cologne, it smells like sandalwood and a hint of sweat. His hand brushes his professor’s, thighs almost touching; the blond’s gaze wanders towards Saul’s plump lips, and he can’t stop imagining what filthy things that mouth could do.

Slash glances around the bar, searching for his friends. He spots Izzy and Axl in a corner; they’re talking in hushed voices, and the brunet is smiling from ear to ear. The curly-haired boy has never seen his friend smile like that with anyone else.

He thinks they’re cute, at least when they’re not fighting or making out on his couch; they’ve been together for so long escaped the rural life of Indiana and the abuse. If Slash remembers correctly, Axl’s religious stepfather found them kissing in Izzy’s car, and he beat the brunet.

The only reason it hadn’t been worse was that Axl was there to protect him. The redhead jumped on the older man and almost killed him with his fists; on sleepless nights, after the frenzy of the parties vanished, Axl and he would have deep conversations he would lead. 

The redhead said he didn’t even care that the bastard used to beat the shit out of him, but Axl could never forgive or forget when he laid his hands on Izzy.

“I have to go to the bathroom” Slash announced, taking the last mouthful of beer.

“Weird, I need to go too” Duff stood to his full height, his wavy hair falling on his shoulders. It was nice to see him like that, without the image of him being his professor.

Duff follows him through the mass of bodies in the bar; the blond is awfully close, his body brushing against Slash, and he closes his eyes. The men’s restroom is nasty; the walls and even the ceiling is filled with graffiti and stranger's numbers scribbled on the bathroom stalls. The brunet silently hopes he can see a glimpse of his professor’s cock, so he can have a new image when he jerks off.

The older man's inhibitions are completely gone and out of the window. Saul is standing there with his messy but perfect makeup and his unruly curls, Duff takes tentative steps towards his student, Saul’s pupils are dilated as he stared at the taller man.

“You’ve been flirting with me, don’t pretend to be surprised. I’m old enough to know flirting when I see it, the looks, the touches…” Slash fixes his gaze on Duff’s face, avoiding looking down at his crotch; his cock is already straining against the tight jeans he wore.

“And you want to act like you don’t want me too” Slash smirks, and even as intoxicated as he is, he manages to look sexy. The brunet moves closer to him, making a stray lock of blond hair away from his face.

“Saul…” Duff should reject him, report him and let the head of the university handle it, but the boy is a great student, and he’s talented. That drawing of him proved that he deserved to be there. “I’m your professor, Saul. We can’t do this.”

“We can try, no one has to know,” whined the brunet, too horny to formulate a coherent thought “You want this too, can see it in your eyes. You probably keep the photo of my cock.”

Slash twirls a piece of blond hair; Duff blushes hard, he knew, caught red-handed, the photo is on a separate folder hidden safely; the brunet smirked.

“You do! You keep the phot…” Duff silenced him with a deep kiss, feeling the younger man's warm mouth, and it’s as good as he imagined.

“I hope you’re not drunk enough to regret this later…” Slash kissed him again as they stumbled through the restroom to get inside a stall.

Duff breaks the kiss and connects his lips on the brunet’s sun-kissed skin, nips and kisses his skin; Slash throws his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing, as the professor sinks his teeth. It would leave a nasty bruise tomorrow.

Slash fumbled with the fly of Duff’s slacks, feeling the hard outline of his cock, the older man’s dick was desperate for some friction, and the brunet didn’t know what aroused him more, finally fulfilling his fantasy or being with someone older than him.

“ _Fuck,_ do something” Duff begs, he sounds too needy and can’t help it, he’s drunk.

The brunet unbuttons his pants and drops to his knees; Duff’s cock is as good as he imagined on those nights he jerked off to the image of the blond bending him over the desk, he wraps those plump, swollen lips around his cock, licking a long stripe from the base to the head, teasing the slit, giving it a wet kiss.

“You… _fuck_ , you don’t know how much I’ve been thinking about that mouth” Slash grabs the base of his cock, the head hitting the back of his throat; he hollows his cheeks and moans, sending the vibration straight to his cock.

Duff’s callused hands get tangled in the corkscrew curls, fucking his throat, he can feel his orgasm unfolding from the base of his spine, Slash eagerly takes more of his length, until the coarse pubic hairs brush his face; before the blond could warn him, he emptied his seed in the wet, warm heat of his mouth.

“Want to grab a coffee later? My treat” Duff caressed the soft skin of his cheek; the younger man nodded, still on his knees and with the most innocent expression on his face.

He was anything but _innocent_.

**. . .**

The next morning, Slash woke up disoriented and with a hammering headache; Stevie is sleeping on the ground of his room, lips parted, snoring, and a little drool escaping from his mouth. He grabbed his phone; it was completely dead, so he plugged it in, and went through all his notifications; mostly were messages from his mom, a couple from his brother, notifications from his social media, but one message, in particular, caught his attention, it was from Duff.

_“What we did wasn't correct, forgive me, Saul, but we should keep things strictly professor-student, you’re my best student, and you should focus on your academic life.”_

Slash blocked his phone and wrap himself in his blankets, feeling sad and disappointed. He didn’t cry, just felt empty; he didn’t get out of bed. Steven got up an hour later and cooked breakfast for them but the brunet refused to eat, he didn’t felt hungry and he slept for the rest of the day.

He woke up later. Perhaps it was six pm, the sun dipping down on the horizon, casting shadows on his room. Slash heard the door creak, and he could see the silhouette of Axl; he padded through the carpet without making any noise; the redhead sat on the edge of his mattress and caressed his face.

“You ok? Stevie’s worried about you,” Slash shook his head and reached for his phone, showing his friend the text; Axl squinted and furrowed his brows angrily “Can’t believe the bastard said that. Next time I see him in the hallways, I’m gonna punch the shit out of that fucker.”

“It’s ok, Ax, I really don’t want to lose my scholarship” Slash made the blankets aside, staring at the ginger. He had a fresh hickey on his pale neck, the nail polish chipped at the tips.

“C’mon, you have to eat something, maybe we can order taco bell or whatever you like” Slash would never understand why Axl liked that greasy food so much, it was the worst kind of fast food.

“Can we watch some movies? I want to watch either twilight: new moon or legally blonde,” Axl smiled sadly and patted his shoulder.

“Sure thing, Slasher, whatever you want,” Slash thought about Mr. McKagan and although he felt sad, at least he got to suck his dick.


	3. If I pass thiz quizz, will you give me your babies?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Please, just let me talk to him. Five minutes tops, you can stay in the same room,” Duff raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. He was a grown adult that paid his taxes; he shouldn’t be begging this dude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lately, I've been writing too much smut, God won't let me die, I hate myself and I want some Hello Kitty doc martens and I have a lot of wip's, so I've been neglecting this story, thanks for readin', take care and I'll see you later 💜  
> Picture for reference: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f2/49/1a/f2491a3d3a5c55026fdf2a08f6f56553.jpg

“Adler! Can’t you hear someone’s knockin’” huffed Axl stomping towards the door. Steven smiled dumbly and took out his earphones. The redhead rolls his eyes and opens a little too forcefully.

The man behind flinched. Axl scowled at him with disdain. His jaw tightened, the blond scanned the door; he was in the right building and floor; he recognized the skinny pink-haired boy as one of Saul’s close buddies; Duff didn’t appreciate the goblin in front of him looking at him like that.

“Is Saul here?” asked the blond, insecure, peering inside the door and expecting to find a certain curly-haired boy.

To be completely honest, he hasn’t been able to get him out of his mind, or his plush lips around his…He better concentrate.

“Yes, he's here, now, are you done?” Axl almost slammed the door in his face. The older man wasn't his professor, he couldn't care less, but the blond put one of his polished shoes on the door.

“Please, I need to talk to him,” pleaded Duff; maybe he should’ve come when Saul was alone, doubted he would be alone without his gaggle of friends always beside him.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” the ginger looked to his left and his right, closing the door “If you do something to Slash, you're gonna end up eating your food with a straw.”

Axl pointed an accusatory finger on the blond’s chest, gritting his teeth; the redhead sighed and let him inside, his gaze fixed on him. Duff felt uncomfortable and wished he could meet him somewhere else, but Saul has been actively ignoring him, even going as far as not attending class.

“Please, just let me talk to him. Five minutes tops, you can stay in the same room,” Duff raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. He was a grown adult that paid his taxes; he shouldn’t be begging this dude.

“Five minutes, blondie, no more, you hear me? And if he doesn’t want to talk to you, you get the fuck outta here,” This guy appeared to be the one in charge, and it certainly frightened Duff. How could he fear a skinny dude with pink hair and wearing makeup?

Nothing against that; makeup was for everyone. In his younger days, he used eyeliner, and that was risky enough. But his professor or not, Duff deserved respect.

Axl knocked on the door, taped on the front there was a piece of paper that said: _“Oh no, you said a bad word, I’m gonna have to ask you to please leave my sleepover”_ The blond sighed, they were a bunch of children and somehow he was attracted to the curly-haired boy.

“Hey, Slasher, someone wants to see you” Axl peeked his head inside with his eyes closed, he won’t talk about that time he saw his friend naked, well he should’ve to knock first, but he’s an impatient fucker.

Inside Slash’s room, the music coming from the speaker was loud, fairy lights hanged on the headboard of his bed, fake vines hanging from the ceiling, vinyl records are plastered to the wall, next to the Minecraft posters. A bong rested discarded on the desk, among the red bull and white claw empty cans. He sat on top of his bed with the drawing tablet on his lap.

Thank god he put the Lightning McQueen photos away yesterday, the body pillow was next to him, Stevie had the brilliant idea to draw a crude portrait of Duff and tape it on the anime character’s face, he tried to hide it once he saw it was his professor.

“He wouldn’t take a no for an answer, Slash, I’ll be in my dorm if you need anything” Axl smiled and glared at the blond in his way out.

Duff stood in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do, the brunet’s dark eyes were fixed on him, his lush lips in a cute pout, the sighed loudly and sat down next to him.

“I’m sorry for that text message” started the blond, he looked the other way, unable to look at Slash and his sad eyes, Christ why is he so cute when he’s not even trying to be “I wasn’t trying to be rude, but I panicked”

Slash crossed his arms, drumming his fingers impatiently, his expression turned sour, sneering at the professor in front of him, he even deleted the thread of messages in a fit of impulsivity, the brunet didn’t want anything to do with him, not after that.

Duff looked around the room, to the pile of dirty clothes next to the closet, the CDs neatly piled on his desk, and the Les Paul in the corner of his room, gathering dust.

“You play guitar?” Duff walked towards the instrument, his fingers caressing the chords gently.

“I don’t play as much as I want to, deadlines and all that stuff keeping me busy.”

They remain in silence for a minute before the blond sat down on the bed and cleared his throat. Getting Slash’s attention, he looked up from his pad, leaving the stylus aside.

“You have to understand; I’m 20 years older than you. For Christ’s sake, Saul, I can be your father.”

“And you think I care? You didn't force me to do anything, that blowjob on the bathroom, I wanted that.”

“But, what about your scholarship? I don’t care if I lose my job, but I can’t take your future away from you”

“I can flip burgers in McDonald’s; I don’t give a flyin’ fuck, Duff” Slash looked at him with pleading, puppy eyes, all big and glassy. Duff cursed softly under his breath, “Please, Let's just try it.”

The blond scooted closer to the brunet; he caressed his naked soft thigh in, made the corkscrew curls aside, to look at him better. Slash dyed the pieces of hair framing his face in electric blue. He wasn’t wearing any makeup, and he looked so soft, Duff’s lips ghosted over the brunet’s, his hot breath on his face before Slash was pulled into a deep kiss.

“We should go to another place more private” Slash pulled away, his lips wet and already a little swollen.

“What, why? This is the best place” the brunet rolls his eyes and gets up; he goes to open his door.

Behind the door was Steven, Izzy, and Axl; they fell comically on the carpeted floor, little shits were eavesdropping the conversation, the redhead fell on top of Izzy, and he cried in pain. Slash crossed his arms with an unamused expression on his face. Axl was immediately on his feet, a hand smoothing over his hoodie.

“We can meet for coffee, just come back to class, Sla- I mean, Saul, I don’t want you to miss any lesson,” Duff cleared his throat; before he was out the door, he winked at the brunet.

**. . .**

Rule number one, the relationship should be kept secret at all costs. If it weren’t, Slash would doodle their initials together on every surface available, decorating it with hearts. He was hopelessly smitten by the blond.

Society still scrutinized relationships between students and professors, and especially by the university, if anyone gets a word about what they were doing. It could end much worse than they imagine, Slash could end up being expelled, but it’s not going back now.

No use crying over spilled milk; they’ve been seeing each other for weeks. The affection Slash felt for his art professor must remain hidden; he didn’t want to be the reason for Duff losing his job and never working again.

So, to compensate, Slash had to restore to stare dreamily at the professor; the blond really wasn’t helping, wearing those tight slacks and keeping his wavy gold hair in a low ponytail, a bead of sweat rolls down his neck.

Imagining his hot body underneath the navy blue suit he wore, sliding the jacket off his narrow but strong shoulders, unclasping the heavy black belt, popping open the button of his fly, take the white t-shirt off and lick his perfect chiseled abs.

Slash taps his pen against his notebook, his eyes glued to the whiteboard filled with a bunch of shit he hasn’t been paying attention to it, glancing at Duff giving his lecture. The taller man looks like a fucking dream, the slight wrinkles around his mouth, the stubble on his chin, the tan on his skin from hours spend on the sun, and his body strong and those brown eyes so inviting, with that devilish gleam he’d seen before in the bathroom stall.

The brunet should stop fantasizing about his professor. His pants are feeling a little tight around his crotch; Duff hasn’t made eye contact with him the whole lecture to prevent any awkward moments, his gaze averting from Slash’s penetrating eyes, the little minx is practically undressing him.

As the class is nearing the end, the students leave the classroom, waiting to get smashed on a Thursday afternoon. Not wanting to wait for a Friday, Duff packs his things, and he’s out of the classroom; Slash doesn’t let the blond out of his sight. He licks his lips.

Slash makes his way towards Duff’s office, bumping into the crowd of students wanting to get out as fast as possible; the door to the room is ajar, almost as if he was waiting for him, soft, classic rock can be heard from outside. The brunet knocks in that peculiar way to confirm his identity.

“Come in” his soft voice makes him weak; his legs feel like jelly. He could get hard just by hearing him give the most boring lecture.

Duff is sitting at his desk, his feet propped on the wood, he wasn’t wearing the jacket of the suit, the sleeves of his t-shirt rolled up, revealing his toned arms, the heavy framed glasses slide down the bridge of his nose; the blond smiles as soon as Slash closes the door and locks it.

“I’m glad you’re here, Saul. I don’t want you to fail my class,” it’s all part of the act. Slash is smart, and he already caught up with the lessons he missed, “You seemed distant in today’s lecture.”

“You’re so distracting, Mr. McKagan. What can I say?” Slash puts a hand under his chin, plops down on the chair in front of the desk.

“Well, your last assignment didn’t meet my expectations,” Duff handed him his essay; in the corner, it had a 99% scribbled in bright red ink. The blond had a leer on his face, smirking. Oh, the game has just begun.

“Sir, please, how can I raise my grade? I’m sure there’s a way,” Slash acted all innocent, his puppy eyes pleading at the blond, “I’ll do anything, sir.”

“Anything, huh?” Duff loosened his tie, tilting Slash’s chin, he undid the top buttons of his shirt, exposing his tan, hairless chest, “You’re a dirty boy, aren’t you Saul?”

Slash nodded vehemently, the blond hums and spreads his legs obscenely, the brunet can’t help but look down at the professor’s cock, straining against the grey material of his pants, his mouth waters, Duff unzips his pants slowly, making Slash whine in the back of his throat.

The blond beckons the boy to come closer with his finger; Slash stands in front of him. The eyeliner under his waterline is messy, the glitter smeared around his eyes, remnants from the party last night. He was almost late for his lecture; the brunet is wearing a black crop top with cherubs on the front, black, skinny jeans ripped at the knees, and his Doc Martens.

“Undress for me, baby.” Duff suddenly feels the craving to have a cigarette between his hands, although it’s been years since he smoked.

Slash ruffles his wild curls and peels the clothes off his body slowly, giving the blond a show; underneath his pants, he’s wearing fucking fishnets, and Duff feels slightly dizzy. Slash leaves the garments in a pile on the ground. He covers himself, faking embarrassment, looking down at his nudity.

The brunet kneels in front of him, his cheek nuzzling his thigh. Duff’ holds his face with one hand while with the other, his thumb traces the shape of those plush, soft lips; before his tongue picks out and sucks lightly at the digit, moaning round it, Slash looks at him with lustful eyes.

“Look at you, all of this for a grade, or you're just a slut and would have done, anyway.”

“Yes, sir, I’m just a slut, but please…touch me” Slash’s voice was breathy, his chest heaving and his cock hard and leaking at the tip between his legs.

The professor gathers him in his arms and deposits the younger boy on the desk. The wooden is slightly cold against his flushed skin; Duff grabs a bottle of lube hidden between in one drawer. He opens him slowly, using his fingers, he strokes his own cock; Slash breath hitches as the blond finds his prostate, the little mewls getting caught inside his throat.

“Let me hear it, boy” his voice is low, husky, his fingers penetrated him, his pace agonizingly slow as he thrusts in and out, “ What do you want?”

“ _Ah_ please, sir, professor, _fuck me_ ,” Duff leaned down, his lips barely touching the head of the brunet’s weeping cock. The lust surrounding them feels empowering, thick like fog clouding his eyes; it makes the blond feel good when they use titles, when he has to remind himself the boy underneath him is his _student._

“Such a needy boy, I’ll take care of you” Duff withdrew his fingers, earning a moan from the brunet. The blond flips him over, parting his cheeks, gently pushing the head of his cock, feeding it into his greedy hole.

“ _Fuck_ , Duff, more, I- I can take it” Duff gave his prick a light squeeze, making the young boy yelp, his breath ragged. The blond kissed him, drinking every moan.

“I'm your superior, Saul. You don't give me orders.”

Slash closes his eyes, Duff’s cock thrusting mercilessly inside him. He can’t help but imagine being bent over the desk in the classroom, being fucked by the blond, the thrill of anyone walking inside at any time, or the girls at his class watching them; he saw the way they ogle at the older man, and the brunet wants them to know he’s the only one to have Duff like this.

The brunet rocks his hips, meeting every single one of his thrusts, he moans loudly, and Slash knows they got to keep it down. Duff wraps a hand around his cock, stroking him at the same time with his thrusts. The desk creaks under their combined weight.

It’s so loud. Slash is sure everyone in the building can hear it. But he doesn’t have the strength to care about it right now; he comes hard all over the blond’s hand, shaking at the oversensitivity. Duff pulls out and finishes on his face; the brunet opens his mouth, not wanting to waste any of his seed.

Heavy breaths filled the room. The smell of sex is overpowering; Duff pulls the brunet into a sitting position, he kissed him, coming down from the high, Slash sighs content, his curls stick to his forehead, stray blond hairs poke out of the ponytail.

“Did I do good, Mr. McKagan?” Slash twirled a curl between his finger, a playful gleam in his dark eyes.

“As always, you exceed in my class, Saul,” Duff kissed him again. Slash smiles softly.

The brunet redresses, his fishnets are torn, but he doesn’t mind, it was worth it; he waves goodbye to the blond and promised to text him in the night. Slash returns to his dorm, there’s no one, and goes straight to his room, plopping down the bed. He can hear Axl and Izzy yell in the next room and a door being slammed, Slash is too fucked out to care, he doesn’t even make his homework for tomorrow.


End file.
